Voyeur, or How to Read a Thief
by PilithieN
Summary: Rapunzel gets a look at Eugene's sketchy past. RE-UP! If you've reviewed before, don't feel obligated to do so again.
1. Chapter 1

Voyeur

Rapunzel never would have pegged him as an artist; he himself stated he wasn't much of one. Then again, there were plenty of things he claimed he was poor at, but was secretly fairly decent. Things like singing, poetry, telling the truth, baking, dancing, finding Pascal, public speaking, sewing, being nice to Maximus; the list is actually quite long. As she thought, Rapunzel was suddenly annoyed with herself. She really shouldn't be so surprised. Flipping through his (borrowed without permission) sketchbook, she had to hand it to him. Eugene had some skill with a pencil.

Settling down against her headboard, she opened it to the beginning. The first several pages were mostly random doodles, and filled 98% of the page, front and back. There were crude depictions of toys, children playing, an imposing building, and food, round discs she assumed were coins and little comments scrawled out in any available space. In all honesty, Rapunzel had a hard time reading anything he wrote, his handwriting being atrociously poor. She _could_ make out some words, though: munny, mom, dad, never, cook, devil, home, never. It all started to leave Rapunzel feeling pangs of sympathy. They certainly were a match made in Heaven: him coming from a home with too many to care for to actually attend to their developmental needs, and her coming from a home with a psychologically abusive kidnapper.

Sighing herself out of these thoughts, she continued through his book. Patiently, she took in all the details she could, and made note of the gradual improvement in quality and penmanship. After several pages, the doodles began to spread out, leaving a bit more blank space in between them. Soon the toys and children playing were replaced with expensive looking clothing, trinkets, and pretty girls. Next to one of them were the words: _Girls are pretty, tell NO ONE_. That one had Rapunzel giggling loudly.

She wasn't prepared for the next page, and it took her by surprise. It was the first fully colored, full page sketch, and it looked like an illustration for a book. The border color was a dull teal, and in the center was a roguishly handsome man in a fighting stance and a cutlass in his hand. Surrounding him was a provocatively dressed noblewoman, and evil looking man with a handlebar mustache and a cloak, and treasure chests at his feet. Underneath this scene, in an ornate banner, was the title _The Tales of Flynnagin Rider_. Rapunzel appreciated the amount of care and devotion spent on this little masterpiece. It certainly must have taken him a long time, and she didn't even want to think about what he had to do to get the supplies to color it. Again, she felt the pang of sympathy.

A sharp knock at her door had her nearly falling off the bed in surprise. She stashed the book in her secret hiding place behind the headboard and fumbled for another book. Grabbing the first one on her bedside table, she settled herself back on her bed, and tried to look as casual as possible. "Come in!"

"Hey, there you are." Eugene gave her warm smile. "I just got done with training. Thought I'd escort you to dinner."

"Dinner?" She set the book on the bed next to her, and stood. "I didn't even realize it got so late…"

"Hmm, you usually have a pretty good internal clock." He glanced behind her to the book on the bed. "What has you so involved you ignore the call of food? Did you finally find your mother's secret stash of romance novels?"

Eugene reached over and picked up the thick book and read the title. Rapunzel's eyes widened at the title and she internally groaned. _This ought to be interesting…_

His dark eyes blinked slowly, glanced back at her, and back to the book, and back to her. "The 101 Joys of Wearing Shoes," he stated flatly. He regarded her fully, cocking an eyebrow. "Now, while I know you like to try new things, once to see what it's like, twice to see if you like it, and three times just to make completely sure, I was under the assumption that, no matter the size and type, you abhorred shoes with every fiber of your being. You tried them ten times."

"Well," she began. "It was a gift from my etiquette tutor (totally true). She said that even though I'm fairly certain in my vehemence for foot attire, I should consider giving it another go (again true) I told her I would really give them another try after I read the book (This was only somewhat true. What she actually said was that she would burn all the shoes in the kingdom in a heathen bonfire if Madam Greta ever mentioned shoes again)."

"…right…" Eugene kept a blank face.

She smiled nervously. "So, you said something about dinner?"

Eugene looked into her eyes with a small smirk on his face, seeming to run something through his mind. "Yes, dinner. I'm sure you can't wait to get back to the amazing thrills of open toe heels and fur lined boots, so the sooner we get the better."

Linking her arm through his proffered elbow, he led her down to the dining hall where her mother and father were waiting for them.

If Rapunzel was being completely honest with herself, she'd say she made a pretty good show of not coming off as preoccupied. All throughout dinner, her mind kept wandering back to the sketchbook, and what else was in it. More importantly, she wondered how she was going to get it back to his room without him missing it.


	2. Chapter 2

Voyeur

Getting Eugene's sketchbook back into its hiding place was by no means a small task. Here was a man who spent years honing his skills in acrobatics and stealth, his stamina and quick thinking, and since she found no opportune moment to get it back after dinner, Rapunzel now had to break into the lair of the thief, put it back, and leave without waking him. Thankful now for the impromptu wall scaling and lock picking lessons, the princess drew in a deep breath, steeled her resolve, and, with a skill that would make even a seasoned burglar jealous, scaled the wall between her balcony and his.

* * *

><p>Eugene waited for the almost imperceptible click of his balcony door closing before settling onto his back, hands behind his head. That certainly had been interesting. He was aware of her presence as soon as she approached the door, and could tell she was containing her normal carefree way of being, and fell into the controlled steps of a thief on the prowl. He had to hand it to her, really. Rapunzel had some skill as a criminal.<p>

Something told him this wasn't going to be an isolated incident. Something told him if she really found his sketchbook, then she was going to take her time with it, and not finish it quickly.

In a stroke of genius, he pulled his sketchbook out from it's (not so) secret hiding place, and, self satisfied smirk in place, he turned to a blank page to begin sketching. "I hope you're ready for this, Blondie."

* * *

><p>There were times when Rapunzel really should have left well enough alone. Eugene told her this, many times, when she ever got herself into some sort of pickle. They were never major, but this, this was bad. Really, really bad.<p>

A week had passed since she first came across that damned book (for that is exactly what she called it), and the curiosity was driving her to the brink of insanity. She could never find a moment suited for sneaking in and taking a quick peek, then be on her merry. This frustrated her to no end. Take this moment for instance. The princess, at present, found herself in front of his room, with him, helping him straighten his damned collar (for that is what he called it). So close, yet…

"Tell me again why I have to attend this particular lesson?"

Distracted, Rapunzel sighed and brushed some imaginary dust off of his shoulders. His broad, masculine, comforting, sexy, perfectly shaped- "Blondie?"- strong, sexy- "Rapunzel."- inviting, sexy- "Hey, Princess." That did it.

"Huh?" Oh yes, she's definitely a princess. Absolutely.

"Not that I don't appreciate the attention, but," Eugene pulled her hands into his, and away from his shoulders. Those nice, well muscled- "I don't think it would go over well if they found the princess feeling up a common criminal in the middle of the hallway." He glanced over at his door. "In front of his room, too. Damn, Blondie, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were a dange-"

Rapunzel tilted her head to the side, mildly concerned at his abrupt cutoff. He only did that when he was caught himself about to say something she might misconstrue or find offensive. Concern faded to curiosity (damn it all). Eugene never intentionally offended her, and the few times she did get upset with something he said, it was because she had missed the meaning, and he forgot she wouldn't readily understand. This rarely happened.

"I'm a what, now?"

He recovered quickly. "A tale for another time, Your Highness." Placing her hand in the crook of his elbow, he made for the breakfast hall, where they would take their first co-ed etiquette lesson.

"I fail to see the necessity for this. I really don't need it. I mean, you certainly aren't complaining about my-"

"I think, sir," Rapunzel cut him off, "it's because the King and Queen have deemed the Smolder and surprise kisses inappropriate courting behavior."

"Again, I don't hear you complaining. Fine, let's get this over with."

* * *

><p>It was too perfect, really. Eugene had told her he would be gone almost the entire day with the city's garrison for training, and wouldn't be back until after dinner. It wasn't something he enjoyed. Training to be a soldier, to uphold the law after many years of finding new and exciting ways to break it, went against his very nature. Still, it was a condition of his parole, and he wouldn't be pardoned until he finished. In typical Flynn fashion, he was very dramatic about it. "The things one does for love."<p>

He also complained loudly that he wouldn't be able to take anything with him except his gear. All personal effects were to be left behind, and after that, Rapunzel didn't have room in her for suspicion for all the excitement at being able to get at the book. She also failed to notice a wickedly amused smirk on his face when Eugene left that morning.

At first opportunity, she dashed into his closet, and found his hiding spot. Sitting on an available footstool, she eagerly opened the book, flipping to her last stopping point, and ventured on.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

After the Flynnagan Tribute, there was a significant change in Eugene's subject matter. He seemed to stop drawing what he saw, and start on what he imagined, and his was a vibrant one. It was as if that one book opened the floodgates to a world of possibilities, and the orphan drank it up. There were knights slaying fire breathing dragons, pirates battling over treasure, castles on hills. The pretty girls from before remained. Rapunzel also appreciated the fact that he tried to make the images dynamic. He tried to make them come to life. As before, little artist comments gave insight to the various doodles. Some were rather sweet, like _Telling pretty girls they are pretty makes them smile. Must do more often._ Others were humorous: _Dragons: Indigestion at it's worst._

Unlike his fantasies, however, his dreams stayed very much grounded in reality. There was nothing fancy or exciting about these. His dreams were simple. Several depictions of couples littered the next set of pages, interspersed with the dancing gypsies and genies coming out of lamps. These couples held there arms out to him, a look of unconditional love on their face, and almost all of them had been angrily scribbled over with black ink. It was easy to understand his sorrowful anger at, as each opportunity to find a family to love him came and went, the unfairness of the life he had come into. The very next page was completely blank save for a title at the top: _Alone_.

This made her pause. It had never occurred to Rapunzel how much a blank page could convey. In that void was his loneliness, and she understood, and an ache developed in her arms out of need to hold him and tell him everything would be okay, no matter she would be many years late.

Her fingers moved of their own volition, sliding underneath the page, preparing to turn it. Rapunzel's mind was elsewhere, with Eugene, holding him. If she was actually with him, trying to console the broken child within him, he'd wave it off. He would say it happened a long time ago, and he has grown up since. The holding would continue, of course. Eugene never missed an opportunity to hold her close.

Her eyes returned their focus back to the book, and she gasped audibly at the sight before her. The left page was almost complete colored in grey fading into black around the edges. The center was left clear, the imposing building the only thing drawn within. It was void of detail, lifeless. On the opposite page, it was a riot of color. A view of mountains and forests, and a large, winding river, and in the distance, there stood city of white. The meaning was perfectly clear, even without words: _Goodbye, Past; Hello, Future._

Rapunzel drew a deep breath, and closed the book. Eugene had mentioned that his life wasn't always a happy one, and he learned to appreciate the small moments. She respected his many struggles, and the man his hard life had forged.

* * *

><p>This had to have been, with complete and utter certainty, one of the longest days of Eugene's short life. Top five. He was sure the Captain of the Royal Guard, (Walter or James, whatever the hell his name was) was taking great sadistic pleasure in the whole thing. Barking orders, making him train twice as hard, all while sporting the most obnoxiously smug smirk. "You'll thank me when this is over," he had said. Eugene called bullshit.<p>

Not wanting to dwell on the Captain and his… _charms_ any longer, Eugene turned his mind to more pleasing thoughts; thoughts starting with _R_ and ending with _apunzel._ He stumbled tiredly to his room to set his pack down. The armor and the jacket fell away soon after, giving his sore arms and shoulders much needed relief. After a long stretch, he set off for the balcony. While it would've been nice to take a bath beforehand, he knew it would leave him with little to no energy, and he absolutely had to make this trip.

Rapunzel would never forgive him if he didn't tell her he had returned, asleep or not. Eugene never questioned this particular behavior, almost certain of the reasons behind it. So, off he went, scaling the castle walls between her balcony and his, fatigue and all. _The things one does for love…_

* * *

><p>"Hey, Blondie, wake up. Your knight in sweat and dirt has arrived."<p>

Rapunzel sighed happily and turned toward the low, hoarse whispers. "I thought you were coming back sooner."

"Yeah, well, Captain's a prick. Had me stay to do some extra drills -no, sorry- Character Building Exercises." Eugene answered, making quotation marks in the air.

Rapunzel's brow furrowed in sleepy concern, "I'll talk to him tom-"

"What? No, that's exactly what he wants. For me to stand down, to run back here and have you fight my battles for me, which I simply cannot do. It's a sacred struggle for male dominance and strength."

At this the princess snorted. "Or pigheadedness," she yawned.

"Nuance," he smiled. "Go back to sleep, Princess. I'm not far."

She smiled as he kissed her hand, smoothed the hair from her face, and quietly left her room. _Don't worry for him_, she thought as she drifted back to sleep. _He's much stronger than he looks._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The universe could not have aligned itself in a more fortuitous pattern, even if it had tried. He wasn't even looking for her, either; just trudging back to his room in the castle. Would've missed her, too, if not for the tiny feet propped up on the ledge of the stone railing.

Eugene acted on instinct, and slunk up against the wall. He quieted his steps and slid his way over to the railing, careful to stay out of the sunlight coming in from the courtyard. And there she was, lying on a blanket on the ground, his book held above her at eye level, whispering quietly to Pascal. There was a concerned…no, perturbed look on her face. She apparently did not like what she was seeing, and he couldn't help but appreciate how sexy she looked. The creases of her brow, the chewing of the lip, the way her skirt had bunched up in her lap, showing off her short but shapely legs. Rapunzel was never sexy on purpose. It was always on accident, and he liked it like that. Distracted by the soft lines of her legs, he was caught off guard by her soft whisper.

"Why are there so _many_ of them, and why are they so _tall_?"

It made him cringe, and hate himself just a smidge. Now he knew where she was in the book: _The Girls_. Several pages dedicated to the salty women he had encountered in his adventures, right after he discovered the wonder of sex. Eugene watched Rapunzel turn the book to the side, confusion in her eyes. "Is that even physically possible?"

Ah, Janine. _Yes, dear. Yes it is…_

Which meant she was fairly close to the latest series of drawings, starting with his old (/stupid) dream, and ending with his most recent additions. He heard her gasp. Eugene knew that gasp well, for it was the gasp she made when all the dots were connected in front of her.

"So THIS is why Madam Greta calls him a man-whore!"

And Eugene thought he deserved some kind of medal for not giving himself away by laughing out loud. It was a monumental undertaking, to be sure.

"Do you think he thinks about me this way?"

She was ridiculous. Of course he thought about her that w-

"Edora…"

His heart seized in his chest. Edora had been his first love. Not his first woman, no, but the first woman he developed an affection for, back when he had a thing for any woman who would give him the time of day. She was all fire and passion, and very quick to anger, which was how he liked it. Nothing, not even looting the governor's house, sleeping with his wife, and getting away with it, topped angry sex with Edora…back then. Now, though, it was different. Now, a month of angry Edora couldn't hold a candle to a night of Rapunzel blushing in the moonlight, the stars in her eyes. But that didn't mean he stopped hurting for the tramp. In fact, it was right after Edora that that he developed-

"The Ten Commandments of Flynn Rider, or how to be a better rogue." _Thank you, Universe_.

The ten rules he had made for himself to better his chances at a heist, and to not get hurt again.

"Number ten," Oh, sweet merciful Heavens, was she going to read them all out loud? "Telling pretty women, who know they are pretty, that they are makes them colossal bitches. Must Never Do (Again)" _Fuck you, Universe._

She went through the whole list. Telling a pretty woman who doesn't know she's pretty that she is, nine times out of ten, will earn some play. Maintain Cardio Regiment. A little Smolder goes a long way. _Hi, the name's Flynn Rider_ gets more pussy than _Hi, the name's Eugene Fitzherbert._ No back story, period. Plan ahead, but be able to adapt. Chicks dig battle scars. Know all your exits, where ever you go. Do not fall in love, ever (again).

Eugene cursed the Universe one more time, and listened for Rapunzel's reaction. She inhaled deeply, and hummed in thought. "I must be that one in ten, then, huh? He must have been pretty frustrated."

Thank all the stars in the heavens Rapunzel had a sense of perspective (and humor).


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Interacting with Eugene used to be fun. He was completely unreserved with her, and at times, his vocabulary rivaled that of the sailors down at the wharfs, but it didn't bother her. Madam Greta always said his language was inappropriate for the delicate ears of the princess, and Eugene always said Rapunzel was an inappropriate princess (what with the shoelessness, and the swinging from things with a whip he had made for her, and other various Rapunzel-y things she got herself into) so they actually cancel each other out, like double negatives. Madam Greta never had a good comeback.

Since coming upon the book, though, she found herself looking for those little Flynn quirks. She found, through watching Eugene interact with shop keeps (on those rare occasions, where they actually had some semblance of time to spend together), that a little Smolder does indeed go a long way, and can bring prices down by half. She noticed him discreetly looking for all possible exits anytime they went somewhere new. Every morning, before training, Eugene would go for a run around the courtyard (shirtless, no less. She considered it a pleasant surprise). For the first time also, she noticed his attention to detail. He would study things covertly, taking in as much information as he could in cursory glances, as if to commit it to memory. _So that's how he does it._ She never saw Eugene with his book on him, so it stood to reason then that the depictions therein were after the fact.

Then she wondered if and how often she herself was in the book. Was she depicted like those women, with very little on, and that look in their eyes? These thoughts were very distracting, keeping her from her studies, missing things people said because she wasn't paying attention, and worst of all, giving her restless nights due to disturbing dreams. Well, it really depended on one's viewpoint. They were disturbing if they involved Eugene with other women, or if they were distracting to the point of disorienting. They were God's gift to her if they involved her, or if they were distracting to the point of disorienting.

And that glint that had recently come over his eyes, that was distracting, too. An amused sparkle graced the usual mirth in his eyes, like he _knew_. Maybe she was just being paranoid. He couldn't know, could he? Maybe she just kept him in a constant state of Amused. Or, maybe he _did_ know…

All in all, it made interacting with him not so fun anymore, thus she avoided him, and the book. So, for a week, she was either overly disturbed, or overly pleased, and insanely curious. Rapunzel needed something to keep her mind off of Eugene, and his stupid glint-y eyes, and that damned book. Getting out of bed, soaked with sweat, she bathed in cold water, and dressed as quickly as possible. Her room was not distracting enough, as most of the stuff in there reminded her of Eugene. It was time for a walk.

Rapunzel was successful in keeping her mind blank. She thought of nothing in particular, and merely observed the world waking around her. So lost in her musings of the pretty shades of green the leaves made when bathed in the light of the morning sun, she had not realized that she was walking down the open hallway surrounding the courtyard, until she heard hushed voices.

"Why, it's positively sinful!" A fit of hushed giggles responded. Rapunzel rounded the corner and spotted several maids looking out into the courtyards, blushing and smiling. She looked out, and spotted Eugene cooling down by a fountain. Damn him and his shirtless running and ruining of a perfectly good morning…

"And to think, the princess has no clue how _gorgeous_ he is…" The others agreed with sighs and nods, and one with a "Poor dear."

She was insulted. Yes, she was trapped in a tower, and yes, she didn't have much interaction with people, and yes she was even slightly socially awkward, but she knew how good Eugene looked. She only needed instinct for that, and instinct she had.

"Do you suppose he gets…you know…frustrated…with her?" There was a resounding agreement, with one saying "How could he not?"

_Okay, that's quite enough._ Rapunzel snuck back around the corner and crept closer to the fountain. She'd have to stop their train of thought before they got some crazy, let's help the poor, deprived, gorgeous man relieve some of that frustration-type ideas.

* * *

><p>"Eugene!"<p>

He was instantly suspicious. Rapunzel was using her coy voice. She only used her coy voice when she wanted something he wouldn't readily give her, and that wasn't a very long list to begin with.

"Yes, Blon-mhmmmf!"

Nothing mattered. Nothing else existed. Just tiny hands tangled in his hair, a soft chest pressed against his bare one, and those lips. The kiss was anything but innocent. It was hot and wet and something Eugene and Rapunzel hadn't done before, and it was amazing, but the lips were sweet, soft, and _innocent, _almost. It didn't make any sense. How on Earth could a kiss so sensual be given by lips so wonderfully sweet? He tried to understand what was happening, but he couldn't think through the haze of sensation, so he stopped trying and went with it.

After a brief moment of forever, she pulled away, and his lips unconsciously followed hers before he caught himself and pulled back. It took a moment for him to come out of the haze, and when he opened his eyes, he was greeted with an extremely satisfied smirk.

"So, may I ask why-"

"Nope." Rapunzel left the circle of his arms and walked back toward castle proper, and Eugene was completely confused.

* * *

><p>The day wore on, uneventful save for that morning. Rapunzel didn't see much of Eugene after that, which was probably a good thing as she really couldn't justify her actions then as she could in the morning. She shuddered to think what Madam Greta would have done if they had been caught. It still left her a bit disappointed when dinner came and went and he hadn't shown up, though. The walk back to her room after dinner was filled with paranoid thoughts. Thoughts like: <em>Is he avoiding me? Did he like the kiss? Does he know about the book? Is he angry? Does he even like me still?<em>

She didn't even notice the object on her bed until she unknowingly sat on it. Confused, she picked it up and, upon realizing what it was, almost dropped it. There was a note tucked in between the pages, holding the place of the Ten Commandments, where she last left off. _So he DOES know…_

There wasn't much on the note either. It looked like he had used a page from the book, too, which left Rapunzel feeling a bit sad that it wouldn't get to be drawn on. Minute sadness aside, she read the note.

_Finish up, Blondie. Then come find me. _


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Hazy fit the best. It couldn't really be called 'lost in thought', as he hadn't done much thinking for the better part of the day. All he had on his mind were lips and tongue and green eyes. Were there hands? Yes, yes, hands, too. In his hair, if memory served; which was asking a lot because his memory was having a hard time serving up his own name that day.

So, when Joel had asked him how his day was going during archery, he said hazy. When the cook asked him if he wanted steamed cabbage or creamed corn, he said hazy. Eugene didn't even have the capacity to talk back to Walter-James. Every red faced order given to him was answered with a "Yeah, sure, Hazy."

Once back in his room, he opened up his confidant and doodled away, all the while processing the events of that morning.

He and Rapunzel had never been so…passionate when kissing. Most of the time it was sweet and loving, like her lips, and others it was playful and teasing, like his smirk. Nice, of course, but not hot. The very first and last time he had touched her intimately, she was running an experiment to she what the fuss with groping was about. The look of utter concentration on her face was nothing short of hilarious. She often got annoyed with him for all of his laughing when she was trying to concentrate. After a while, she sighed dramatically and told him if he didn't stop, she was going to take this experiment elsewhere, the Captain of the Guard, perhaps. Eugene did not appreciate this. The point being that that experience was not, in any way, arousing. He grabbed her boob, and didn't get turned on. He sucked on her neck hard enough to leave a hickey, and he didn't get turned on.

Whatever that kiss was, it lived in a new, unexplored Rapunzel Realm, and he wanted to get lost in it. So he drew exactly what he wanted, and in a stroke of (maybe) genius, left it for her. That was two hours ago. All that remained was to wait for her. He had found himself a comfortable spot on the roof above his room. Eugene leaned back, and waited for the moon to rise.

* * *

><p>The first image she recognized. The island was small and picturesque, with palms swaying in the breeze, and mounds of gold glittering in the sun. This was his dream. <em>Something to call my own.<em> It was written in very small, neat letters, so as not to be obtrusive. Even so, it seemed so lonely to her, and she wondered what led him to seek out such isolation. Was it really that he just wanted something in this world that was his and only his?

The page turned, and Rapunzel blinked a few times in an attempt to understand the picture in front of her. It was the Lost Princess. The title said so. She had long, wavy chocolate locks. Her legs were very long, absurdly so, and completely bare. The cleavage on that woman would have made a harlot blush, and the coquettish smile had Rapunzel rolling her eyes. There was an arrow pointing to the crown on her head, with the words: _Master Plan: Steal this, and don't get caught. I'm sure she won't mind. _

The mirth of that image left Rapunzel unprepared for the jolt of fear she felt as she was greeted with the sight of the Stabbingtons. Each had their own page dedicated to them, in vivid detail, and their names spelled out in banners at their feet. Bartholomew was the name of the brother with the eye patch, and Horatio belonged to the brother with sideburns, and who did all the talking. After the portraits was a long list of reasons NOT to team up with them, and a very small list of reasons why it was worth the risk. His decision was written in bold at the bottom of the page: _I am a Beggar and I know what I can't be._

She eagerly turned the page and was greeted with the Rapunzel she had been not very long ago, freakishly long blonde hair everywhere, with a frying pan brandished high. This was when she had asked him who he was. This was their first conversation, their first bit of (non-violent) interaction. He remembered quite a bit. There were even little motes of dust floating in the sunlight.

And then there was Rapunzel swinging from a tree, and Rapunzel cartwheeling down a hill, and Rapunzel laying face down in a meadow, and Rapunzel brandishing her frying pan at a small bunny. There was an arrow pointing to the rabbit and the words: _can smell fear_, and an arrow pointed at her: _smells of fear._

Several pages followed suit, consisting of that initial adventure, with little comments made here and there, like: _Impressive hair flinging is impressive. Frogs that glare should not exist. The Hair fucking glows. 14 freckles, very (insert word that means cute but isn't cute). Max belongs to Satan._ Just to name a few.

She was starting to get disappointed at not finding any depictions of her in a more desired manner. Surely he had thought of it at some point, right? Rapunzel was beginning to lose hope, until, of course, she saw herself in the boat with Eugene, leaning into an almost kiss. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were lidded, and his eyes wanted her. There were lanterns crudely drawn around them, as if in after thought. Clearly it wasn't the focus of his memory. If she had missed his increasing skill as an artist before, she was certainly aware of it now. Written right beside her, inside a lantern were the words: _New dream. What the Fuck. Also, Boat ride=Best. Idea. Ever._

After the beauty of that picture, which left her warm all over, she saw the Princess Portrait again, only this time, it was her, with short choppy hair, short legs, in a simple dress that she had outgrown long ago, coy smile replaced now with one of eager optimism, and the crown atop her head. This one had an official title inside an ornate flagged banner: _Go figure_, and in the bottom corner was a small caricatured herald shouting: _Bonus, still a brunette! _

What followed afterwards had Rapunzel grinning gleefully. It wasn't a picture of anything really, just an ornate border, like the ones decorating the portraits in the Grand Gallery of the Castle, or an invitation to an elaborate ball, and in the middle was spelled out in decorative script: _One hopes the journey into yesteryear was both entertaining and insightful. Enjoy these next works, tentatively titled: Living the Dream, or how to reform a Eugene Fitzherbert. _Below that, in small, unremarkable text, read: _I never consciously intended for anyone to see this, but looking back at all the notes, and clues and everything else, maybe I hoped someone would see, and maybe understand, and then, if they did, I wouldn't feel so…alone, I guess? I don't know, honestly. Anyway, what I'm saying is, I'm glad it's you, Blondie. Pip pip, then. You're almost done. Your personal Dashing Rogue/Reformed Lovesick Fool, Eugene. P.S. Don't tell anyone about this. I'll deny everything. _


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_Accidentally Sexy._ This wasn't something Rapunzel would consider herself. At the very least, she never did anything purposefully alluring. And yet, page after page, that's what the images told her. There was something so sensually sweet about Rapunzel painting, with bits of color smudged across her cheek and nose. There was something oddly seductive about Rapunzel picking the lock of a door, the tiniest bit of pink tongue peeking out from the corner of her mouth. Napping on a bench in the courtyards, dancing to the sound of some faraway drum, just being her, Rapunzel, is what he found sexy. She didn't try, she just was, and apparently being so unknowingly beguiling had some ramifications.

There was one image of her licking the icing off of a cupcake in complete bliss, and behind her, a pathetic looking palace guard stood with a strangled look on his face. Next to it was a block of text, which read: _Poor Joel had to stand there and watch you the entire time you ate that cupcake, whilst trying to calm his raging erection. And, if you can't readily understand why it's so hot, imagine him imagining the cupcake is his hard-on. _

Now Rapunzel was embarrassed, "Oh, Joel. I'm so sorry!"

One of the images had a little title next to it: _Red-handed_. Feet propped up on a stone ledge, skirt bunched up in her lap, and the book hovering above her, turned on its side, her own head tilted in confusion. _And to answer that question: It TOTALLY is._ "Oh, hell…"

The next page had only one image: that of Rapunzel, with nothing but a tiny nightgown on, arms and legs spread out. Lots of little arrows were pointed to various parts of her body, with comments and dates. The title of this piece was: _The many places Rapunzel likes to be touched, tickled, or kissed, including dates of discovery_, and added in the bottom corner: _And you said I wasn't paying attention._

At the bottom of the next page, which showed Rapunzel leaning against a pillar, gazing out of the window, a warning was written. _Before you turn the page, Blondie, you have to understand something. I'm a guy, and all guys do this. We wouldn't be guys if we didn't. I do it, the guards do it, the guys at the Duck do it, even Max and Pascal. Although I'm pretty sure theirs are limited to their own species. At least, I hope. So, enjoy?_

Rapunzel warily turned the page, fearing the worst, and was mildly surprised at what lay before. Once again, she was in the smallest nightgown in her wardrobe, only this time it was magically see through, her nipples were distended, tenting the fabric just so. Her right hand was fisting the fabric at the hem, and her left hand tucked between her legs, and her face contorted in the sweet agony only an orgasm could bring. "Well, that's not so bad. I have clothes on still…"

As if preempting her reaction, Eugene had written a message here as well. _Oh, don't you worry. It gets worse. _And it did.

* * *

><p>Eugene had made a valiant attempt to stay awake, but that small patch of roof was sloped just right, and the night breeze was quite refreshing to his muscles, which were now recognizing the work they had been put through that day. Before long, his eyelids slid closed, and he hadn't even realized he lost the battle.<p>

* * *

><p>She was blushing madly as Naughty Rapunzel (with a little Eugene thrown in at times, doing some very interesting things with his hands, his mouth, his, well, the idea is there.) flitted through the pages before her. Surely Madam Greta would have something to say about these, like dainty princess lips were not made to be engaged in such vile and shameful actions, if she ever got her hands on this book, and wouldn't it be so very embarrassing if she did.<p>

Eventually the sordidness tapered off, and they became increasingly intimate. It was lovemaking on paper, and she couldn't fend off the ache that engulfed her chest. _So this is love?_ The next few pages were filled with tender caresses, loving embraces, and looks of deep longing. Once again, Rapunzel was annoyed with herself. She really shouldn't be so surprised at his depth of emotion. She came to another border; only this one was simpler, as though a child had drawn it. The message inside read: _Everything I thought was true of the world, and of life, you've managed to prove wrong. You're the first and only person I've ever met that actually keeps their promises, even if they are made to a frog, or a horse, or a complete stranger you decided to trust. I thought I knew what I wanted. I had a plan, a Master Plan. Maybe Maximus was an agent of destiny, guiding us to the places we're meant to go. So, that tower wasn't part of the plan, and you weren't part of the plan, but it's where I was meant to be. _

She was speechless. Floored. In awe. _So THIS is love._ Her mind went a little numb at the giddiness of it all. She made to close the book, thinking it was the last of it, but stopped when she spotted a bit of sketch on the next page. There was no color in this one, and it looked just like the pictured in the beginning of the book. Simple, and raw. There was a raised mound in the middle, and wavy lines all around. The trees didn't sway in the breeze, and squiggle clouds shared the sky with m-shaped birds. On the mound were two simple figures, holding circle hands. At the bottom, in inelegant letters were the words: My new dream.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The quiet rustle of turning pages woke him, but he remained still. He could hear her slow, even breaths, interrupted at times by a snort in laughter, or a thoughtful hum. Lips twitching in a smirk, he broke the silence. "So, this morning-"

"I don't have any excuses, sir. I acted on impulse, and decided to stake my claim before anyone else got dangerous ideas." Her eyes didn't leave the book.

Eugene propped himself up on an elbow and leaned toward her, "Hmm. Possessive becomes you, dear heart. Who, if I may, was having these 'dangerous ideas'?"

A page turned. "More than one person, actually, and they seemed to be entirely too sympathetic to your, shall we say, unique deprivation." She cocked an eyebrow, "and they thought I was clueless. I mean, come on. I know how you look. I know what sexy is."

"Careful there, Goldie. You might add to my already inflated ego." He finished with a chuckle and pillowed his head in his hands, gazing beyond the stars. "Hey, Rapu-"

"Hold on a sec. I've been practicing." Rapunzel met his gaze for a brief moment, and closed her eyes, breathed deeply and looked back into his. Her expression was of yearning and desire, of wanting to be bad, but not knowing how to be. Her tiny pinky finger was held in between her teeth, and she had licked her lips to have them glisten in the moonlight. But her eyes, they told a different story. They glittered with conspiracy, like the two of them shared a secret, and he knew the truth behind the look, that she knew exactly how to be bad, because he had shown her how. His laugh was deep and rich, with a little bit of a rasp at the end, and he pulled her into his lap, straddling his hips.

"Rapunzel being sexy on purpose? Surely this is a sign of the End Times." He kissed her hands and pulled them around his neck. "It wasn't an instruction manual, you know."

Rapunzel sighed contentedly, and twirled the soft wisps of hair at the nape of his neck. "So, you're not mad?"

"Nuh-uh."

"And you don't think it was a gross invasion of your privacy?"

"And since when does Rapunzel respect one's personal boundaries?"

That earned him a light slap across the chest. "I've been getting better. But it was okay though, right?'

"Truthfully? Yeah, it was. I would've told you here and there, but this was easier. Talking about it, you know, is like talking about Gothel to your mother." She winced slightly. "Terribly awkward."

She went back to playing with his hair, so he closed his eyes and relaxed into her touch. Her gaze was flitting across his features: the fall of his hair, the slope of his nose, the curve of his lip, pulse at his throat, and peeking underneath the collar of his shirt was a jagged scar that ran from his collar bone to his shoulder. She wanted to say something. She wanted to say she understood, that his life wasn't something to be ashamed of, and he should be proud of the man it has made him. "Eugene?" He hummed in response, the rumble trembling in his chest, and reverberating through her whole being. The words stuck, and she had nothing to say. But maybe that was okay. Maybe he knew she understood because she was there, and that's all he needed. So, she settled into his embrace, counting the beats of his heart, and smiled. "Nevermind."


End file.
